The Destiny of the Firstborn
by I Escaped the Loop
Summary: Harry had always been the forgotten child of the Potter-family. After all, how could he ever compare to the child who ended the war? But one door in the mansion suddenly doesn't lead to where it should be and when a curious young boy reaches for the knob, his destiny begins to turn in a new direction. The Lake is calling and now it is up to Harry to answer...
1. Chapter 1: That One Special Place

When the wizards thought back on that fateful night, few understood how little they truly knew about the events that had transpired.

All they knew was that through some kind of miracle the entire Potter-family had survived and that the Dark Lord had been defeated. The only things that had been left of the fearsome wizard were his black robes, a charred wand and a pile of ash. Not even the Potters themselves knew why they were still alive, only that they were incredibly grateful to be so.

And as the great wizard Dumbledore hoisted an young Alexander into the air, proclaiming him the Boy-Who-Lived, the family of four knew that their time as a normal family was pretty much over. They hadn't planned on this but Albus had brushed off their concerns over announcing Alexander's amazing victory over Voldemort all over the wizard-world.

The long war was over, the people deserved to know the one who had brought it to an end.

The cheers echoed through the streets as the Second Wizarding War came to a close and alcohol of all sorts were being passed around to both toast the victories and commemorate those that never got the chance to see this day come.

And throughout all of this, a young black-haired boy saw his brother being lifted high and didn't understand why. He tried to get the attention of his mother only to be subconsciously held closer to her chest, almost as if she was afraid that he was going to disappear if she loosened her grip.

Something told this child that things were going to be different from now on, that their quiet life together was no more.

He put his arms around her neck and softly fell asleep to the rhythmic beating of his mother's heart as Lily gently stroked the head of her second son. For now everything was alright and he was going to enjoy this peace while it lasted, unknowingly echoing the thoughts of both of his parents.

Tough times was ahead of them but they would overcome them.

As a family.

-line-

The times that followed were not always easy for the Potters.

More than once, Lily and James had cursed out Dumbledore for spreading the truth around Voldemort's to everyone in Magical Britain. And themselves just as much for the fact that they allowed him to do it.

They needed to recover from the horrible attack from Voldemort, getting thrust into the spotlight as celebrities was the last thing they needed.

Alas, the damage had already been done and they would have to adapt.

Though they would be lying if they said that there wasn't a lot of grievances.

Some people went to ridiculous lengths in order to meet Alexander. Every letter had to be screened and every gift had to be examined thoroughly before they were allowed to come anywhere the famous child. Their house was constantly flooded by reporters and rabid fans alike, the family could barely walk outside without being surrounded.

It went so far that any grocery-shopping had to be taken care of by Lily in the muggle-world.

In fact, Alexander's fame was becoming a bigger chore that they had anticipated.

Not only because of the potential risk of their son developing a big head due to everyone heaping praise and adoration onto him, but also due to the fact that it made it very difficult to weed out the people they could trust from those that were just trying to use them.

Thankfully James, having once been a spoiled child before, had promised himself that he would never let his kids make the same mistakes that he had so the first problem was mostly taken care of. It was off course difficult but they took small steps at a time.

Even if the rest of the world treated him like a Messiah, at home he was going to be a normal boy and no amount of whining was going to change their minds.

The second problem was much harder.

They had no idea what Dumbledore had been telling people but now it felt like every person under the sun was trying to have a say in their lives. Even people that they had known for years like the Weasleys and especially so Dumbledore himself.

More than one argument had broken out over the way James and Lily were taking care of their children.

In many people's eyes, Alexander's great victory over Voldemort gave him the right to have anything that he asked for. He was the Boy-Who-Lived and that was the only justification they felt was needed for all the gifts and adoration.

People constantly questioned Lily's decision to treat Alexander like a normal boy, acting as if they knew her son better than his own mother did.

More than one time, James had been forced to step in before things got violent. Lily's temper, in spite of it having been cooled slightly since their Hogwarts-days, was still not something pretty to behold.

Not to say that he did not agree with his wife, he just knew that these people could easily use her temper to strengthen their argument.

Dumbledore was constantly trying to extend his influence over the innocent Alexander, he visited quite often and always spent the time trying to teach Alexander a little bit of everything when it came to magic and philosophies. James and Lily had caught him trying to speak in their child's name more than once, often with the intention of trying to further his own agenda. The bridge of friendship between the couple and the aging wizard was crumbling brick by brick and Dumbledore either didn't notice or didn't care.

So in the midst of all of this chaos, perhaps it was not surprising that little Harry got lost in the scuffle.

His quiet nature and lack of interest in the things that children typically were (James had been slightly depressed when he had learned that Quidditch was one of them) was not helping either, especially in contrast to the vibrant and loud personality of his brother.

While his brother was in constant motion and seemingly had an unlimited supply of energy, pulling pranks and getting into trouble with reckless abandon, Harry preferred to sit down and either read books or draw pictures of either objects around him or odd images that plopped into his head. He was very polite and tried his best to please the people around him, even if it did hurt when said people never even spared him a glance.

The library was his favorite place in the house, or it used to be at any rate, due to the fact that the supply of knowledge within it seemed to be neverending. Off course, he didn't have access to all of it but the books that he was allowed to read was more than enough for a young boy like him.

And on top of that, it was a place where he could forget how empty his life had become.

Harry realized quickly that everyone that came to the Manor was only interested in seeing Alexander and as such he stopped to care about the people around him. Even his own godfather, Sirius Black, seemed to forget about him at times.

Deep down, Harry knew that his parents were trying incredibly hard to not forget him. But the soft voice of a young child is so easily drowned in the sea of people that had become a constant part of their lives. People who were shouting on top of one another (in some cases literally) in order to make sure that their voice was heard.

It didn't stop his pain though, even if it did soften it by a somewhat significant margin.

He couldn't find it in himself to hate his parents when he saw the pain and guilt in their eyes whenever they accidentally forgot him again. They hated themselves enough as it was.

A different child would have probably had a stronger reaction to the fact that they were invisible to their own family, but Harry viewed these truths with great apathy.

Crying or screaming wasn't going to solve anything.

Besides, there were many other things that were much more interesting (though maybe not as funny) than watching stuffy grown-ups become piles of goo at the slightest shift in facial-expression from his brother.

Like that strange room that he had discovered a while back...

-line-

Harry has been roughly seven years old when he had first found the room during one of his regular explorations of the manor.

The Potter Manor was gigantic and while James and Alexander spent their free time either on The Quidditch-pitch or scheming to continue the Marauder-legacy (something that often gave his mother gray hairs), Harry spent his days exploring and discovering all sorts of neat things about the house.

When his parents had discovered this particular passion of his, they assigned the house-elves to keep an eye on him so that he wouldn't accidentally get hurt or lost. James had even taken an initiative to get Harry a diary where he could note his findings, even if the older Potter probably knew everything about anything that was to be found. It didn't matter to James, all he knew was that he had found some kind of common ground with his other son and he had enthusiastically shown Harry some of the hidden features of the Potter Manor.

In many ways, it was kind of assuring that for as much as his parents tended to forget that he existed they at least cared about him at some level.

Those early explorations with his father were some of his happiest memories and even though he wasn't able to be there a lot nowadays, he at least tried to ask about his day and what he had found during dinner.

But back on topic.

Harry has been exploring one of the corridors when a strange noise had alerted him to a door that as far as Harry knew led to a room that was only used for storage.

Curious, he turned the knob and opened the door.

The room that was laid out before him was unlike anything that the young boy had ever seen throughout his expeditions of the house. Not necessarily in appearance, but the room generated a strange atmosphere that drew the curious child further and further into it.

It was a study of some kind, it looked similar enough to his father's that Harry felt reasonably confident in that assessment.

Various documents on top of a mahogany-desk in a corner of the room seemed to suggest that the previous inhabitants of the room had been a mind-healer of some kind, a lot of those papers talked about the subconscious and especially so the importance of memories.

The jars filled with what looked like human remains (he was reasonably certain that he saw a brain in one of them) only served to reinforce this hypothesis.

A bit odd and slightly unnerving to be sure, but it didn't shake Harry's resolve to uncover the room's secrets.

One of the things that had first caught Harry's attention when he had stepped into the room was strangely enough the tapestry. The moth-pattern on the walls was almost hypnotic and the deep green hues only enhanced this effect. If he squinted hard enough, it almost looked like the walls were literally watching him.

The second was the large painting on the right wall

It was a strange painting that depicted an even stranger motif. Yet it seemed to speak to Harry on a level that he didn't fully understand.

It depicted two figures sitting in two armchairs that were facing each other with a table in the middle.

On the left was a shadowy figure with white eyes.

And on the right was a man with the head of a crow.

Two items were lying on top of the table. A lit candle in a holder and a glass-vial that had been tipped over, its content spilling onto the floor.

For some reason, Harry's eyes kept coming back to the bird-man in particular. For some reason, it felt like the crow was observing him...

The cluttering noise that had led Harry to the room suddenly rang out again, causing Harry to snap out of his trance. He looked around for the source and spotted a large object covered by a red curtain. Harry carefully lifted the fabric and became delighted by what he saw.

The object underneath the curtain turned out to be a birdcage and with it was a grey parrot that chirped at him in an endearing manner.

Harry was used to living around birds, owls came in every day after all, but he had never seen a parrot so up close before. They were not common in this part of the wizard-word so it was an unexpected surprise. Though he had to wonder how he had never seen it before...

A buzzing suddenly drew Harry's attention away from the bird and onto the television next to him that had somehow turned on by itself. Harry cautiously walked closer and the image on the screen showed the kitchen downstairs.

Dinner was almost ready and it was one of the few things that he actually looked forward to each day. It was the one time when he truly felt like he was a part of this family so he really didn't want to miss it.

As he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, absentmindedly responding to his parents calling him down for dinner, Harry pondered if he should tell his family about the room. If only so that the parrot wouldn't go hungry.

Once he reached the stairs, Harry had made up his mind.

He had often wanted to find a place to call his own and the room was an unsolved mystery that Harry wanted to figure out by himself. He would find ways to feed the parrot, by himself if it even needed to. It looked like it had been there for years so maybe the house-elves fed it, he would have to ask them later.

For now, that room was his little secret...


	2. Chapter 2: My Secret Abode

Days and weeks passed and the strange room that Harry had begun to refer to as 'The Moth Room' was quickly becoming his favorite place in the entire house.

One thing that soon became obvious was that the Room kept changing a little bit every time he went into it. Many things remained the same, but there was always one or two small details that changed every time he visited.

Sometimes an object was missing, sometimes a new one had been added. And other times it was just the placement that differed.

It had become a personal game for Harry to spot the anomaly as it kept getting trickier and harder to notice.

Sometimes, Harry felt like the Room was alive...

It might have sounded silly even by wizard-standards but he had heard plenty of stories about Hogwarts from his father and one detail in particular that stood out from those stories was the Room of Requirement.

A room that shared plenty of similarities to his mysterious abode.

Harry had noticed over time that the Room responded to his emotions. It could just be his own mind slowly going off the deep end due to his lack of interaction with other people, but he could swear that it knew what he was feeling when he stepped across the threshold.

When he was bored, there would be some kind of game on the table or a show on the television.

When he was sad, there would be a warm cup of hot chocolate and a large stuffed animal waiting for him.

When he was frustrated, a large punching-bag filled with sand was hanging from the ceiling and bottles of water standing on the table.

It truly was fascinating...

His parents had of course been curious about something that had captured his interest so thoroughly but so far he had managed to get away with a couple of vague descriptions and half-truths. He suspected that the reason they didn't press harder was in part because of guilt, in part because they thought that they had already seen everything that the manor contained.

All the better, he wanted to keep this room to himself as long as possible. Maybe it was a touch childish but he felt like everything in the house had his brother's handprints all over them. Never once did it feel like something truly belonged to him.

Except now, he had the room.

And it was all that he needed.

-line-

This day, the Room had something special waiting for him.

When Harry opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of an old film-projector and a series of reels on the table. The reels were numbered, suggesting a particular order that they should be viewed in, and they had very strange titles that revealed very little.

A bit puzzled but nonetheless intrigued, Harry picked up the first reel (titled 'Welcome') and with the aid of a helpful picture learned how to attach the reel. He then pulled down the white screen (regretfully covering the painting), started the projector and made himself comfortable.

As the minutes passed and he kept playing one reel after the other, he was enthralled by the strange yet inviting world that came to life on the screen. The moving images told of a mysterious lake that almost seemed to bleed in the light of the setting sun, of murky waters that contained secrets that had not surfaced in centuries. The environments drew in the young explorer and Harry felt almost disappointed when there no longer was any new reels for him to watch. He wanted to know more about this mysterious place and sorely wished that the reels had contained some kind of hint to where it might be located. He would have to maintain hope that the Room would reveal more to him in the future.

Looking at his watch, he became surprised when he saw that over 2 hours had passed. The reels hadn't felt all that long and there hadn't been that many of them so Harry was kind of taken aback by the fact that he had been sitting there for so long without noticing it.

Groaning slightly, he stood up and stretched a bit. He would have plenty of time to ponder that later, right now he had notes to write and sketches to draw.

For several days now, he had tried to draw the room in detail so that he wouldn't forget it once his parents inevitably found out.

He didn't want to forget its magic, the sensation of a place where his mind projected itself onto the environment in ways that even a young boy like him could understand. It was oddly self-reflecting to see his mind being laid so barren in front of him, most others would probably be horrified but Harry found it insightful.

Part of him feared that this magic would be lost when more people discovered the room, he didn't know if there were any kind of logic in that statement but in either case, he knew that the room would no longer be his.

He looked down at his drawings, feeling happy with what he had accomplished. As he gathered his things and exited the room, Harry smirked to himself as he spotted a small shadow that tried to remain unseen.

His brother had been trying to discover his secrets for a while now and so far all he had to show for it was a storage-shed turned upside-down and tons of frustration.

Part of him couldn't help but feel a smug satisfaction.

After seeing his brother being handed everything between heaven and earth for something that he didn't even remember, it was comforting to know that at least he got to have his safespace to himself for a little while longer.

It was quite funny when you actually started to think about it.

The Boy-Who-Lived, the one who had stopped Voldemort and put an end to the Second Wizarding War, was being rejected by a magical storage-shed.

Harry chuckled at the image as he went to his bedroom to put away his supplies, well aware of the perplexed stare that was being sent his way...

-line-

What was he doing wrong?

Why couldn't he get in?

He had seen Harry do it countless times, sometimes he had gotten tantalizing glimpses of what was hidden inside.

A room unlike any other with a subconscious pull that couldn't be explained. A treasure-trove of unfathomable proportions for a young adventurous boy.

But when he turned the knob, all that met him was 30 years worth of trinkets and various objects of questionable value. Not a single trace of the green tapestry and warm light that he had briefly witnessed through a crack in the doorway before the door had closed completely.

Was there some other step that he was not aware of?

Part of him was tempted to ask his father for help, but there was an even bigger part of him that wanted to solve this mystery all by himself.

Not necessarily for any kind of recognition, he had more than enough of that as it was.

But to try and get over the invisible wall that separated him from his brother.

Your sibling wasn't supposed to feel like a stranger, yet he felt like he barely knew his brother. Granted, he was aware of how much Harry hated the spotlight and all the people that constantly came to meet him. It was impossible to not notice the dark looks that Harry sent to the crowd that awaited them every day, especially the reporters.

But lately, his brother had become more and more distant from the rest of the family. Constantly vanishing for hours upon end and then appearing around dinner like nothing ever happened.

Well, one thing was for sure. Alexander was not going to give up until he got the answers that he was looking for.


	3. Chapter 3: Ponderings in the Night

It must be really late.

The darkness outside was thick and heavy, only broken through by the warm light of the streetlights. The smell of rain was prominent and everything was quiet.

And yet, Harry couldn't go back to sleep.

There were plenty of mysteries that kept Harry up at night, but so far there was none bigger than the man that had lived in the room before he had.

Harry had carefully rummaged through the desk in the search of clues but it was very difficult to make any kind of sense of the complicated terms in multiple different languages, so much so that it was hard to tell what could possibly be a name and what was simply yet another scientific term.

Nonetheless, the reading was fascinating in spite of him not understanding everything. He was only seven years ago so some words flew completely over his head, in spite of his large vocabulary for his age.

But it didn't matter, the research on memories and how they connected to the subconscious was incredibly interesting. It seemed remarkably fitting for a room that reflected the mind that was inside it...

As he lied in bed, pondering the identity of the previous owner of the physical mindscape that had grabbed his interest so, Harry began to untangle himself from his covers. He was hearing something from downstairs and wanted to make sure that everything was in order.

The attack from so many years ago had left its marks, even though he didn't remember much of the attack itself.

Putting on his slippers and trying to make a little noise as possible, Harry carefully edged down the stairs while keeping his eyes open. Every creak in the old tired wood made him shiver with anticipation.

The hallway seemed to go on for an eternity and the darkness only served to enhance this effect. Harry could now see a pale glow through a crack in the doorway at the end of the hall and he slowly stepped closer, anxiously peeking inside.

Harry let out a relieved breath once he saw his father hard at work, even at such late hours. It was somewhat odd, James was usually finished by dinner-time and he almost never took his work home with him. But at least Harry now knew the cause of the disturbance.

Satisfied with his discovery, he headed for the kitchen to get himself a glass of milk. It would help when he was going to try and go back to sleep.

As he walked down the hallway, Harry was surprised to hear the door go open and turned around to meet the tired gaze of his father. James raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised that he was awake. He smiled and affectionately ruffled his son's hair.

"I thought I heard someone sneaking around. You should be in bed, young man."

Harry awkwardly looked down into the floor, embarrassed over being caught.

"I couldn't sleep..."

James's eyes softened and he gave Harry a hug.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

Harry shook his head slightly.

"Just some things that I couldn't stop thinking about. Well, that and I heard noise down here. I felt like I had to make sure that everything was okay."

James chuckled awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"I tried my best to be quiet, I only had a few more papers to finish. But I guess that I wasn't quiet enough. Want a glass of milk before going to back to bed? I am going to get a cup of tea myself."

Harry nodded with a tired smile, taking his father's hand as they went to the kitchen. Sitting down on a chair as James brought out a glass and a teacup, Harry couldn't help but to stare at his father.

Ever since they got caught up in the whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense, he felt like he had barely seen his father in years. It was always early mornings and late evenings, as well as who knows how many press-conferences.

And off course, the majority of the time it all centered around Alexander.

Harry secretly wondered how many people who knew that there was a second child in the Potter-family. Perhaps they thought that he was one of Alexander's friends...

He was slightly startled by the sound of his glass being put in front of him and he looked up as James settled down next to him. Several minutes passed in silence as neither of them knew where to start.

Finally, James cleated his throat as quietly as he could.

"So, what have you been thinking about so heavily? It might help to have another brain working on the problem."

Harry smiled slightly, but he then lowered his eyes onto the table.

"Just something that I have been working on."

James chuckled slightly.

"Your secret little project, huh? Come to think of it, I don't think that I have ever seen it..."

Harry sighed and sunk into the chair, James' smile faded as he looked over to his son.

"Harry? What is wrong?"

Harry deeply sighed again as he continued to stare into his glass with a pained expression.

"I just...want to have it for myself for a little while longer. It is the first time that I have something that truly feels like it belongs to me. Something that haven't been through Alexander's hands first..."

Suddenly he looked up at his father with heavy eyes that were filled with shame.

"Does that make me a horrible person?"

Subconsciously, James pulled Harry into his arms and stroked his son's black hair as he felt his heart break.

It was always horrible to watch as your child was left without a single present on his own birthday as more than often gifts that had been intended for Harry had been moved to Alexander's pile without them noticing during the enormous celebration. He was grateful that Alexander had such a good heart that he always gave Harry his presents back when no one was watching.

But it was not hard to understand why Harry felt like nothing truly belonged to him. His son had become forgotten and overlooked ever since Alexander got catapulted into the spotlight. All that ever seemed to matter was the Boy-Who-Lived.

He looked down at Harry and held him close.

"Harry, you have every right to feel the way you do. These years have not been easy for any of us and so often I wished that I could make everyone forget about this nonsense."

He leaned back in his chair, putting down his cup as Harry looked up at him. He sighed deeply as he continued to speak in a tired and frustrated voice.

"Many of my coworkers don't take me seriously anymore, they seem to think that every suggestion that I make is an attempt to acquire more attention or influence. Even people that I have known for several years."

He looked out the nearby window towards the darkened hills.

"Often I wonder if we should have just kept quiet and let the media speculate about Voldemort's end while we rebuilt our lives. But then again, Dumbledore would never have listened. That old coot always think that he knows best, regardless of how little he truly understands..."

Another deep sigh exited his lips and he looked down at Harry with a tired and sad smile.

"But let us not worry about that. Me and Lily have been planning on taking a short little trip out on the countryside on Saturday. To get away from the media and everything. Just you, me, Lily and Alexander out there in the wild woods. We can even bring a picnic-basket. Doesn't it sound nice, Harry?"

Harry's face lit up at the prospect of a chance to explore something new, he hadn't left the mansion for years due to the paparazzi.

"Off course, it sounds wonderful!"

To James, that smile that was present on the young boy's lips was worth more than all the riches in the world. Especially since he was often plagued by dark thoughts that questioned his competency as a father when he tried to sleep.

He chuckled slightly as Harry yawned, reminding them that the hour was still late.

"Perhaps we should both head back to bed now..."

Harry rubbed his eyes and nodded, as pleasant as this nightly little escapade had been it was time to go back to sleep. Before he closed the door to his room, he turned to his father with a warm expression.

"Thank you for giving me your time."

James just smiled, regardless the sting of pain those soft words caused him in his heart.

"It was nothing, Harry. I just wish that I had more of it to give."

Without a prompt of any kind, Harry reached his arms around his waist and gave his father a hug before he went back inside his room. He understood, probably more than his father realized.

That night, James slept with a smile on his lips.

 **Writing dialogue is much harder than I anticipated, especially when you constantly question whether it sound natural or not. If something sounds off, let me know. It is the only way for me to improve.**

 **By the way, I hope that you like my version of the Potter-family. I wanted to avoid the flat uninteresting assholes that I see so often in this kind of story, especially in regards to Alexander himself. He will play a larger role in future chapters and another major character will be introduced next chapter.**

 **Have a nice day and keep on reading!**


	4. Chapter 4: Parrot and Padfoot

_Something wasn't right._

 _Harry looked around him, confused about the strange place that he had found himself in._

 _He was surrounded by dead trees, their blackened branches reaching for a pale sun that was barely visible through the clouds. A thick layer of fog was covering everything like a spectral blanket and Harry could barely hear any sounds outside of those he was making himself._

 _Harry tried to peer through the fog, hoping to find someone who could explain where he was. Suddenly he spotted ghostly black figures in the distance, their white eyes were incredibly unsettling in how empty they were._

 _He stood up, ready to start walking when the sky suddenly glowed red. Harry turned his head and saw the black figures moving towards him. Fearful of their soulless stares and what they could potentially do to him if they caught him, Harry began running and he desperately darted between the trees hoping that it would somehow throw off his pursuers._

 _The air around him was growing heavy, Harry looked his shoulder and grew even more frightened when he saw the shadows coming closer. He was frantically looking for someone, anyone who could help him. He didn't want to think about what would happen once he wasn't able to run any longer._

 _Suddenly, the sound of a crow broke the barrier of silence and Harry looked up to see a bird circling above him. Their eyes met and he suddenly heard two words in an elderly voice._

 _"Find me..."_

Harry flew out of bed as he was brought back to the waking world, taking shaky breaths to slow down his racing heartbeat.

"Honey, are you alright?"

Harry looked to the side and met the concerned eyes of his mother, her hands holding his. Shaking the shock off, he responded in a voice that was more unsteady than he would have liked.

"I had a strange dream, it got really scary. I was being chased..."

Harry chose not to elaborate further than that. Lily embraced him and Harry held her close, he rarely got hugged nowadays and a part of him longed for those earlier years when the attention was distributed equally between him and Alexander. But there was nothing he could do, so he had to settle for enjoying the moments as they came.

Lily soothingly kissed his forehead and stroked his hair with great affection.

"It must have been dreadful Harry, but you are safe here. Breakfast is on the table, so try and come down in a few minutes."

Lily got up and walked towards the door. But before she left, she turned towards Harry again with a soft smile on her lips.

"And by the way, Sirius is going to come over today so please don't spend the entire day upstairs. He has been looking forward to seeing you."

Harry nodded and she walked out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. As he got dressed, Harry wondered why Sirius wanted to see him in particular.

Sirius coming over was nothing new but he rarely acknowledged Harry's existence. It probably wasn't intentional, much like his parents, but it was difficult to not feel like he didn't have a godfather at all when he saw Sirius only play with Alexander with a boyish grin on his face.

Nonetheless, it didn't matter in the long-run. He had more important things to do than watching his godfather act like a child.

But Harry would be lying if he said that this new development didn't pique his interest...

-line-

Harry had been happy to see that the parrot had returned, this time the cage was open and the bird settled down his shoulder once he closed the door. Harry softly stroked the parrot's feathers as it affectionately whistled an unusual melody, it sounded like a somber waltz for a final dance. He hadn't seen it in a couple of days so it was a pleasant surprise to see it flying around the room.

The last few days that Harry had visited, the birdcage had been empty and the parrot had been missing. At first, he had been frightened and worried that it was roaming around the house somewhere. Thankfully, it had eventually returned to its cage like nothing had ever happened and his family still seemed to be oblivious to the parrot's existence. And Harry preferred it that way.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed something unusual on the birdcage. Harry walked closer and saw a small brass-plate attached to the base, caked over with dust and dirt. Curious, Harry wiped the dirt off and was suddenly able to read the inscription on the plate.

"Harvey, so that is your name..."

Harry directed the statement at the parrot who bobbed its head in a nodding-gesture, Harry took that as a confirmation.

"Well, now I know what to call you at least. I wonder where you came from..."

"The Lake."

Harry was startled by the sound of the parrot speaking. It had only whistled and squawked up until now so Harrry had not expected it to answer him, especially so directly. Fascinated by this, Harry looked over to his feathered friend who had settled down on the back of a nearby chair. He had a suspicion that he knew exactly what the parrot was talking about...

"The one from the reels?"

The parrot nodded and to Harry's delight elaborated a bit further, though rather cryptically.

"The Lake is a fountain of knowledge. It knows everything that was, is and will be. And it waits for you to find it."

Now Harry was incredibly excited, this parrot could be the breakthrough that he had been waiting for!

"And where is it waiting?"

The parrot's answer was infuriatingly simple.

"Beyond this room."

Harry was incredibly perplexed. What kind of an answer was that? Yet, there was something that told Harry that there was more to the answer than what he had been given.

Unfortunately, Harry heard the sound of the doorbell ringing which signifies the arrival of his godfather. And as much as Harry wanted to continue to uncover more of this mystery, he wasn't going to go back on his promise. He let the bird climb into the cage and he spoke to Harvey as he closed it, not knowing how much the bird was able to understand.

"We will talk more about this later, Harvey. I have to go and greet my godfather. See you tomorrow, I hope..."

-line-

Harry left the room and walked down the stairs, his godfather was indeed standing in the vestibule. Sirius looked up and his smile lit up the entire room as his eyes met Harry's. The young boy was immediately swept up in a strong hug as soon as he stepped onto the floor.

"Hello there, Harry! It's been a while, hasn't it? I don't think I've seen you since last Christmas. How's it going?"

Sirius' upbeat attitude was infectious and even though the bitterness inside his heart was more than happy to remind Harry of its existence, Harry couldn't help but to smile back.

Sirius took his coat off and settled down in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. He leaned forward with a grin on his face, clearly excited to hear what Harry had to say. Harry sits down in the sofa, not sure where to begin.

"It's been pretty good for the most part, I just finished reading another book yesterday. At the rate I am going, I am going to have read the entire library by the time I go to Hogwarts."

Sirius chuckled and Harry felt slightly more at ease, he had never been good at small talk.

"I am really looking forward to the trip on Saturday, I can't even remember the last time I went outside. It is going to be so much fun!"

"That's right! Me and Lily has found a really nice piece of untamed wilderness not that far away, it's pretty unknown so the risk of us getting interrupted are very slim. Nobody even knows that we are going away over the day, just to minimize the risk of the wrong person overhearing. I trust that you can keep a secret, old friend."

James suddenly chimes in from the kitchen doorway and Harry jumps slightly. Harry honestly forgot that he was there for a moment.

Sirius put his hand on heart and his expression was so serious that it looked almost silly on a man that was anything but serious.

"I swear that I will not divulge the news of your expedition to any living soul."

Harry couldn't help it, he burst out into laughter at the scene presented in front of him. When the adults in the room gave him funny looks, Harry responded in between his fits of laughter.

"That sentence did not sound right coming from you, uncle Sirius."

The playful glare he got in return only made the boy laugh harder.

The two spends the day having fun, Sirius showing off a few fun spells and Harry longed for the day when he would be able to have a wand of his own. Harry shows a few of his drawings, being very careful to not let Sirius see the ones that are related to the room.

He may be fond of his godfather, but he isn't ready to share his secret with him yet. Maybe in time, but not right now.

They even play a few rounds of wizard's chess, every time he looses Harry learns and matches gets longer and longer as the young boy becomes better and better at covering the holes in his strategy. It doesn't stop Sirius from beating him every time though.

Suddenly the floo flares to life and Alexander steps through, having spent the day over at the Weasleys. He freezes slightly at the sight of his godfather before he jogs forward to hug him.

"Hi Uncle Padfoot! How's it going?"

Sirius turns slightly to hug Alexander, happy to see him.

"Pretty well, so far your brother has yet to best me even once."

Alexander turned towards his sibling with a playful smirk and off course he couldn't resist to tease him a bit.

"Wow Harry, you suck that much?"

Harry simply shrugged, it took more than that to get him down.

"Alas, the Hound of the House of Black is far to cunning for me to defeat."

Alexander rolled his eyes in return.

"Harry, you have read way too many books. Nobody even talk like that anymore."

Sirius laughed.

"And here you said that I sound too dramatic Harry. Anyway, don't be too hard on your brother Alexander. He is still learning and he has a long way to go before he will be able to beat me. Care to watch?"

He turns back to the board, motioning his second godson to sit down on the stool next to him as he resumes the game.

Harry is surprised to see his brother settle down and observe them, Alexander has never been the patient type and a tactical game like chess was more likely to bore his brother out of his mind.

The game goes on for quite a while with neither player being willing to admit defeat, all the while Alexander kept on watching with great interest. Ultimately, the end result was still the same. Harry didn't mind, he had played to the best of his ability and it had been a close game.

"Boys, dinner's ready! You can continue playing later."

The trio rose and obediently trotted into the kitchen, the Potter-matriarch was not one you disobeyed without good reason.

A large grilled ham greeted them from its seat of honor in the middle of the dinner-table and the delightful smell of roasted potatoes was making every mouth water. Harry felt his stomach rumble at the sight of the feast that had been laid out before him.

He settled down along with the rest of the family and they carried on conversations about all sorts of things as they ate. Harry was content with merely listening and responding when someone addressed him directly.

For a while, things were pretty good.

All it took to make that pleasant mood evaporate was a single sentence.

"So Harry, I have heard that you have this secret little hiding-space of yours..."

Harry felt his blood freeze and he looked down into the floor, trying to find a way to respond.

"What are you talking about, Sirius?"

Harry met the eyes of his father who was equally confused, though not for the reason Sirius probably thought. Harry looked around the table and found the culprit sinking into his chair as his mother was giving him a disappointed glare.

"Well, a little tyke that I know quite well told me the other day that you have this magical cupboard that changes appearance and I was curious about...what's wrong, Harry?"

He knew.

He knew everything.

Harry felt trapped like a wild animal, he needed space. He had to get away.

Without warning, Harry suddenly bolted from the table. He mumbled a quick 'thanks for the food' to his father before he ran up the stairs, ducking into his sanctuary. He wanted to be alone.

He didn't notice the tiny crack in the door.

-line-

The rest of the family was left dumbfounded by Harry's sudden departure and Sirius turned towards James with confusion and concern written on his face.

"What is going on with Harry?"

James sighed sadly, this was not how he had wanted the day to end.

"Harry didn't want you to know about that secret yet."

Sirius looked down into the table.

"Did I do something wrong?"

James walked over to his old friend and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"No Sirius, this isn't your fault. It is just that...that place means so much to Harry and I think that he is scared that he is going to loose it if too many people know about it. It is the first thing he has that truly is his own, you know."

James then looked over to Alexander who fidgeted in his seat, not able to meet his father's gaze.

"And as for you, young man...I am very disappointed in you. I thought that I taught you better than this. Why did you share a secret that wasn't yours to share, Alexander?"

The boy forced himself to look up, knowing all too well that he has done something wrong. Somehow, the saddened and disappointed tone in his father's voice felt even worse because of how soft it was.

"I...I didn't mean to...I just wanted to be let in. I didn't know that he was going to react like that..."

James sighed, he understood where the boy's logic came from.

In spite of their best efforts, Alexander was still unused to the feeling of being denied something. They had managed to teach him to ask politely and not throw loud tantrums, but that does not prevent him from being affected by the way everyone in his environment spoiled him.

In many ways, Alexander was just as spoiled as any other famous child. He had just learned to be smarter when it came to getting what he wanted.

So when Harry wouldn't let him in, Alexander had off course gone to uncle Padfoot and complained, hoping that he could somehow make Harry change his mind.

Sirius has always been Alexander's go-to when something didn't go his way and the old dog loved his little pup so much that he couldn't deny him no matter how much he knew that it would come back to bite him later.

James put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Prongslet, if you had been patient and gentle perhaps Harry would have let you in eventually. Now he might never let in at all."

Alexander felt his stomach sink into the ground and a part of him wished that he could turn back time, somehow make everything right.

This wasn't how this day was supposed to go.

Now the only thing that remained of the happy mood from earlier was the chess-game lying abandoned in the other room, pawns still arranged for another game.

They would remain that way for the rest of the evening.


End file.
